


The Grinch's Ten Inches

by LisaDuncansTwin



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaDuncansTwin/pseuds/LisaDuncansTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has, um, time on his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grinch's Ten Inches

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Grinch's Ten Inches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/908993) by [LisaDuncansTwin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaDuncansTwin/pseuds/LisaDuncansTwin). 



> Originally this was a Highlander story but as an experiment I wanted to see if it would work elsewhere. Tweaked, here it is. Originally written in 1999, redone for Ray Kowalski (due South) in 2000 and redone for Jim in 2012. Just a bit of fun. Also appeared in My Mongoose Ezines, [Many Chapters of The Sentinel 7](http://www.mymongoose.com/chap7/cover.htm).

Fuck! It’s snowing again. Not that I had anywhere to go anyway; I’ve got the next four days off. If whoever came up with the idea of Christmas was alive, I would kill them! Of all the holidays, this one has to be the worst to be alone. Even fucking Valentine’s Day isn’t this bad. That’s just for lovers, this one’s for families and friends. Friends—I can count on one hand how many friends I have, the kind of friends that I wouldn’t worry about turning my back on. And family, what a joke. A dad who wants me to deny what I am and a brother who’s too busy making money to care about being a brother.

Fucking holidays! And it’s snowing. I could call someone, Simon or Joel but they’re probably all busy opening stinking presents and being jolly. Not that I didn’t get offers, but who wants to sit around with a bunch of clowns and celebrate being alone? Not me. Fuck, I’d rather sit around here. Hope I bought enough beer.

Shitty, fucking season, and if it doesn’t quit snowing soon, I’m gonna shoot myself in the head! It’s a five-mile walk to the university. Uphill, both ways, in the snow. He knows where I am. Says he values our friendship too much to risk fucking it up by having sex. Fuck him. Well, yeah, that was generally the idea, until he got all 'guide knows best' on me. Told him to give me some space, I’d let him know when he could come back. I just know he’s probably sleeping on his couch in that ratty old sleeping bag.

Fuck, fuck! Are those snowflakes getting bigger? Doesn’t he know that screwing around can make a friendship better? Okay, so it doesn’t always work, but surely it’s worth the risk. And it isn’t like I don’t love him. What? Where the hell did that come from? Okay, okay. I admit it. I’m in love with Blair Sandburg, neo-hippy witchdoctor punk. Fuck.

What a fucking rotten holiday. No one said anything about a damn blizzard. I suppose it isn’t so bad to love Blair, and I bet he loves me too. That’s why he doesn’t want to fuck around. He probably has some romantic notion that we should be making love and committing to each other, and then spend fucking forever together. Or spend forever fucking.

Ah, what the hell is this? Who are you to get hard on me? You’re just hard cause you’ve been thinking of Blair. Oh yeah, that mouth could prove my downfall. And yours, too. He’d probably suck my cock so hard my brain would fall out, but at this point, I seriously don’t think my brain would even have to tag along. Shit. These pants are tight.

Damn, I hate zippers. Ah, much better. I bet his hands would fit perfectly around my cock; I've noticed how big they are, how...wide. They’d slide up and down, fast at first to get my attention. A tight squeeze at the head so I didn’t forget that he was in control. And he would be, like he always is. His rough hands would cup my balls, roll them between his fingers. Oh yeah.

I’ll bet he would tease the head of my cock with his tongue, circle it lightly, and taste my juices. He’d take the head into his mouth and suck ravenously at it. Yeah. I’d arch up into that luscious mouth wanting to be swallowed completely, but he’d hold me down, deny me entrance. Tease!

He would move lower, tracing my balls with the edge of that hot, wet tongue. Sucking first one and then the other into his hot mouth. Oh yeah. That would feel good. I’d feel his teeth underneath them, on the smooth skin behind my balls. His hand would keep stroking my cock, slow, languorous movements. Just like that, just a little harder, baby.

Then he would tease me with his tongue, lapping it against my ass. I’d arch into it, begging him to taste me. And he would, aw, yeah, and I’d scream at the first sensation. His tongue would curl and drill into my ass, fucking me. He’d stroke my cock in time with his fucking. God yes. Please, please. I’d beg him. I’m right there, right on the edge.

Fuck!! I’m coming. Keep stroking, pull it all out of me. That’s it. I love it. I love you. Oh god, yes, Chief. It’s you.

Hey, it looks like it stopped snowing. Maybe that walk to the university isn’t so long. I gotta get cleaned up first, wouldn’t want him thinking I’m some kind of pervert. Nah, just a man in love.

Looks like it’s shaping up to be a nice day. Maybe I’ll buy a Christmas tree, too.


End file.
